


Ballads For Two

by caratgems



Series: Autumn Recital [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Music, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caratgems/pseuds/caratgems
Summary: Was waiting worth it?Most probably.So Minghao stayed there, a smile on his face as he thought about what had just happen.Little did he know that this autumn recital was going to be one out of hundreds of others.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Series: Autumn Recital [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702888
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Ballads For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!   
> Here is yet again another junhao one shot!   
> (Can you tell it’s my favourite pairing?)  
> hope you enjoy <3

Minghao felt slightly out of place sitting silently in the middle of the fancy dressed crowd around him. Never in his life had he gone to piano recitals and he didn’t really know what he was supposed to do.

The huge venue was slowly filling up, chatter and heels on the wooden floor reverberating on the heavily decorated baroque walls.   
Minghao quickly glanced at the man on his right and at the woman on his left before looking back at the stage in front of him. He mentally thanked himself for choosing the right clothes even though the last button of his shirt was making it hard to breathe in the warm room. 

Minghao didn’t know how long he waited in silence, the dim lights really starting to make him feel sleepy. But suddenly, everything went black and people stopped talking, hushing the ones who were still whispering. 

The unexpected change in atmosphere had startled Minghao a little but he quickly shook the feeling away and managed to adjust his posture on the chair. 

All eyes were now on the stage.   
There, stately shining, a jet black grand piano was awaiting for its companion for the night.   
The warm light of the projector made its ivory keys glim and Minghao couldn’t help but feel a ball of excitement form in his chest. 

Minutes later, a man appeared on the wooden stage. A man like Minghao had never seen before.   
His white silky buttoned up shirt looked immaculate and his shoes were as shiny as the piano he was heading towards. He had chestnut hair and his facial features looked very defined even from where Minghao was sitting (which was around three rows away).

Slowly but confidently, the man bowed, facing the crowd, glancing at everyone for a mere second, before swiftly sitting on the cushioned stool, his hands delicately resting on the black and white keys as he moved around in his seat, adjusting his stance. 

There was something about the man that made Minghao feel out of breath.   
It felt as if he could see every details on his face even tho there was at least a good 5 meters separating them. 

After a long silence, the young man finally pressed his fingers down, the sound of the soft first notes resonating through the venue and through Minghao’s entire body. 

He couldn’t help but move around in his chair to try and shake the weird feeling away. 

As the musician continued moving his hands across the keyboard, his fingers caressing the smooth surface of the instrument, his body rocking back and forth slightly to the rhythm, Minghao closed his eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the sensations the music procured him. 

The more the pianist played, his gaze moving from his left hand to his right hand, eyebrows furrowed, the more the audience was drawn in, eyes glued to him.   
It was as if he was speaking directly to you.   
And you had to listen.   
As if your body had to react to the man’s powerful aura. 

In between each pieces of music, people respectfully applauded and Minghao couldn’t help but stare at the musician’s face; how his eyes closed, how he slightly leaned back, resting his hands gently on his thighs, waiting for the applauses to stop and for the room to dive into deep silence again. 

It was enchanting.

The concerto probably went on for a long hour, maybe two even. But to Minghao, it felt like it had lasted five minutes. 

As if he had been hypnotised, he didn’t notice the people around him had stood up to acclaim the prodigious man who had just finished his splendid performance.

Startled, Minghao quickly stood up and clapped as well, earning weird looks from the lady beside him. 

After a couple of reverences and timid waves to the crowd, the young virtuoso disappeared behind thick red suede curtains and Minghao felt a weight on his chest.   
He couldn’t really tell what it was.   
Or maybe was he simply sad the performance was over, his heart already longing sweet melodies to be heard again, mourning the presence of the breathtaking musician. 

Slowly following the crowd outside the venue into the fancy looking halls and entrance of the theatre, Minghao first thought about smoking a cigarette.   
He really needed one after the quite overwhelming experience this show had been. 

Before stepping out of the building, Minghao checked the event poster he hadn’t really paid attention to on his arrival to the venue.   
It was minimalistic, black, with just the picture of a white Grand piano and precisely calligraphed chinese characters displaying the title of the show and the name of the artist;

“Ballads for two played by Wen Junhui”

Wen Junhui. 

what a pretty name, Minghao thoughts to himself.   
It fit so well. 

Outside, the darkness had enveloped the whole city with it’s cold hands, the breeze of mid autumn caressing Minghao’s skin who couldn’t stop himself from shaking through a violent shiver.   
Quickly putting his big and warm coat on, wrapping himself up as tight as he could, he tried refugeeing himself behind the street lamp not so far from the building as if it could actually protect him from the wind.

His back pressed against the brick wall of the old theatre, he dug his hand down the side pocket of his coat, sticking a pack of tobacco and everything he needed to enjoy his addiction to the fullest. 

A door clicked to his right but he didn’t pay much attention to it as he rolled his ciggy up. 

He didn’t notice the tall silhouette beside him either as his focus was purely on his lighter and he sighed after the countless attempt at striking a fire with it. 

“Seems like it’s empty. here, take mine.” 

Minghao jumped in surprise, quickly turning his attention towards the man who just spoke. 

Said man was reaching his hand out to him, offering him a shiny silver zippo. 

“Thanks” Minghao said, grabbing the lighter and lighting up his cigarette before returning the tool to its rightful owner. 

Minghao would have been a fool if he said he didn’t recognise the man standing beside him instantly. 

It was him.   
Of course it was him. 

« You’re... » Minghao said, his jaw dropping and eyes widening, gesturing as best as he could in the direction of the theatre’s entrance, pointing at the posters plastered on the walls and glass doors.   
Wen Junhui nodded, a shy smile forming on his tinted lips. 

If Minghao had thought the man looked stunning on stage, he really was not prepared to see him right in front of his eyes.   
Repressing a shiver (which was definitely not caused by the cold breeze this time), Minghao stared at his feet for a minute, trying to process how beautiful the pianist looked before speaking again.

« You were amazing... » 

Junhui chuckled, his gaze not leaving the neon lights of the city across from them.

« Thank you! » Was all he said before the both of them went back to smoking their cigarettes in silence.   
His voiced sounded just like the notes on his piano. 

Melodious.

Saying Minghao felt awkward was an understatement. He felt terribly embarrassed and genuinely panicked like a fanboy meeting his idol for the first time in his life. 

« So...what are you doing out here? » 

Dumb question, Minghao thought, mentally face palming himself. 

« Why are you not inside with everyone? I’m sure they are all waiting to congratulate you. »

The musician laughed again, taking a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in delicate swirls. 

Everything about this man seemed delicate. 

« I’m not really good with hand-shaking and praises...plus I really needed a smoke. » 

Minghao nodded shyly, taking a drag of his own ciggy, or rather what was left of it. He was not a fast smoker but the aura the man standing beside him exuded had turned Minghao into a panicked mess. 

« I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I should get going before my manager calls the cops because I disappeared for more than 5 minutes. »   
Junhui said, shoving the lighter he was still holding inside the pocket of his long mantle. 

« Will I see you again? » 

Dumb question again. 

Junhui turned to him with a bright smile, the light of the street lamp illuminating his face and sending yet again a shiver down Minghao’s spine. 

« That, my dear, is up to you. » He replied before turning back and slowly heading towards what Minghao thought was one of the theatre’s emergency exit door. 

« Mayhaps You’ll be able to borrow my lighter for another cigarette later on...If you wait for me. » 

Minghao took a deep breath as Junhui waved at him before disappearing behind the building’s wall, leaving the other young man standing there in shock. 

It was pretty late and Minghao was cold. 

Was waiting worth it?   
Most probably. 

So Minghao stayed there, a smile on his face as he thought about what had just happen.

Little did he know that this autumn recital was going to be one out of hundreds of others.

**Author's Note:**

> Today I offered you Pianist Junhui.   
> Tomorrow? who knows ;)


End file.
